I thought those three people were possibly doing some sort of real estate thing when I first saw them. The woman that lives directly across the street from the people next door to me has been doing some building lately. She subdivided her lot and has built one house behind hers and has the beginning of a foundation for the one she's building in front of her house. At one point tonight, three people I don't know were looking at the place, so real estate was my first assumption.
I thought nothing of them as they stood there looking at the property. I didn't in fact think of them again at all till they were in front of the house next door. I didn't know quite what to think as they were obviously praying. I knew I was likely to be next, so as they left the neighbors I headed outside.
They were praying in front of my house when I walked up and asked, "What exactly are you doing?"
"Prayer walk," one of them answered. "We're from Blibbity Blab Baptist Church, and we're just walking through praying blah blah blah."
I really did shut her out as she finished her thing. I didn't quite know what to think. I didn't see any anointing oil, so we seemed safe there, but I also didn't think of anything witty to say till much later. What I did come up with was, "Ya'll have fun with that."
I hope to have seen the last of this, but if the praying somehow starts to work, and if I can reasonably justify my stance as to what the prayer effects and how, then I will keep you updated.
And the witty line I came up with too late? "Shouldn't ya'll be out feeding the hungry or something?"
Monday, October 08, 2007
all the cars
Inspired by Chris posting about all the cars he's owned.
1972 Ford Ranchero-bought probably in '89. I'd been trying to save money for a car when my mother decided I was going to buy this car. I didn't have any better options. It drank a fair amount of oil, especially those times I cut loose down I-675. This car could fucking go. Until the day I smashed into the ass end of a VW Rabbit on Columbia Avenue. It was backed into the driveway by the tow truck awaiting a bit of repair.
198? Chevy S10-pickup-owned by older brother, though I took over payments. This was the cheap model and not something I really wanted to own. I forget now why older brother was not making payments, but he was kind enough to have smashed in one of the front fenders. this car met it's demise t boning some stupid bitch in Morrow GA as she pulled out of a fast food restaurant and stopped right in front of me. I had time as I hit the brakes to see that there was absolutely no where I could go. I turned to the right as much as I could as I hit to keep from hitting her door . Needless to say, it was totalled.
In chronological driving terms we come now back to the Ranchero. I had purchased a new hood and front end at a junk yard and now had ample reason to repair the car, which I did. What was once half primer gray and half original red with white and black trim became all of that with the addition of a Granny Smith green hood and front end. I drove it till the tie rods broke one day while I was leaving work at a Kroger warehouse off Lakewood Freeway. I walked down the street to a repair shop that happened to be close by looking for a tow truck, not sure what to do with the damn car. I let the guy talk me into selling it to him, a decision I sort of regret to this day. This car could have brought out the hot rod guy in me, but it's probably fortunate that it didn't.
1973 Volkswagen Beetle-true punk rock car. It was mostly orange when I got it with this really poorly done black wedge like thing that started just in front of the back wheels and went up to just beneath the back window. It was only a short time before a couple of friends and I attacked it with Sharpies and wrote a lot of nonsense and punk band names all over it. There was broken glass somewhere in the back that a friend was nice enough to not clean up even as I explained that I didn't give a shit since they were the ones who had to sit in it. That car saw some good times and some high drama. It also saw an over done wannabe monster truck roll over the back end of it as I didn't clear the intersection on Memorial Drive in time, a combination of my car stalling and the guy in the truck not meaning to be quite such a dick.
1979 Mercury Grand Marquis- which had been my grandmother's car. This car was the worst possible shade of green and was christened the big pickle though any pickle this shade of green would be best avoided. This car was plush, velour seat covers over basically pillow top seats. Everything that could be electric in 1979 was. I never owned this car. The family pretty much got it as Grandma went into the home. After my brief stint with this car it went to my oldest brother's wife who likely drove the wheels off of it. I enjoyed my time with it and am happy not to have crashed in it. This is however the car I would drive up I-75/85 in, cruise control set to about 80, both feet out the window. I was an idiot, so please don't judge me based on those years. I didn't actually wreck this one, for what it's worth, but it did become unavailable to me, moving on to a more desersving family member.
MARTA-trains and buses for a good long while and a whole other chapter of my life. If not for the things I got into during this period I'd likely never have left Atlanta, but I eventually did in VW of some sort. It's pretty fucked up to sit here and consider that the long line of cars above only covered the years 1988 to 1993 as I entered the carless years. The move to Charlotte NC proved especially fun as their transit system left a bit to be desired. I actually worked within walking distance of everywhere I worked for the couple of years I was in Charlotte. I then moved to Rock Hill SC, destined to one day be a suburb of Charlotte and relied on the kindness of friends and then a boss when I worked construction for a short time. It was around this time, 1995, that Momma showed up with her car.
1988 Subaru DL-one of the most missed cars, Momma's graduation present shortly before we started to see more of each other. We drove the shit out of this car. Back and forth between Atlanta, Knoxville and back to Rock Hill as we visited family. It moved with us to Atlanta (Stockbridge) for an odd few months living with a friend before wising up and moving back to Charlotte with some other friends. Eventually this car moved with us to Knoxville and saw the end of its service as we bought a slightly newer car.
1990 Buick Skylark-grandparent style driving. I never did like this car. We drove it a lot and it was a nice size for all of us including the baby that would eventually become Big Brother. The less said about Buick in general the better. It wasn't a bad car, so I shouldn't really knock it, but . . .
1996 Honda Accord-our current car and my true favorite. It's got a lot of miles on it, but it runs great. I'd prefer an extra pair of cylinders in the engine, but I really can't complain. I really love this car anyway. We found it at Car Max and didn't really have a reasonable way of proving to them that we were a worthwhile credit risk other than that we had good credit. The car was so new to the lot that it wasn't online and didn't even have the paper in the window yet. While looking and thinking about the cars we were likely to have to settle on we saw our Honda. The salesperson didn't even know about it. I'd almost believe in destiny with the story of this car, but no.
1983 Toyota pickup-belonged to Momma's grandfather, given to us earlier this year. This truck has a pound of rust per square foot of bed space with very little rust on the body of the truck. I'm currently having battery problems and need a new throttle cable. This truck has over 200,000 miles on it. My U10's call it Rusty Wallace and end practice in the back acting goofy while their parents fold up their chairs and attempt to drag them away from the truck. This truck will likely sit in the driveway for years being used for errands and for me and the boys when we don't take Momma to work to have the car. I could love this truck if it let me. It needs at least a radio that works in addition to the real issues that I already mentioned.
1972 Ford Ranchero-bought probably in '89. I'd been trying to save money for a car when my mother decided I was going to buy this car. I didn't have any better options. It drank a fair amount of oil, especially those times I cut loose down I-675. This car could fucking go. Until the day I smashed into the ass end of a VW Rabbit on Columbia Avenue. It was backed into the driveway by the tow truck awaiting a bit of repair.
198? Chevy S10-pickup-owned by older brother, though I took over payments. This was the cheap model and not something I really wanted to own. I forget now why older brother was not making payments, but he was kind enough to have smashed in one of the front fenders. this car met it's demise t boning some stupid bitch in Morrow GA as she pulled out of a fast food restaurant and stopped right in front of me. I had time as I hit the brakes to see that there was absolutely no where I could go. I turned to the right as much as I could as I hit to keep from hitting her door . Needless to say, it was totalled.
In chronological driving terms we come now back to the Ranchero. I had purchased a new hood and front end at a junk yard and now had ample reason to repair the car, which I did. What was once half primer gray and half original red with white and black trim became all of that with the addition of a Granny Smith green hood and front end. I drove it till the tie rods broke one day while I was leaving work at a Kroger warehouse off Lakewood Freeway. I walked down the street to a repair shop that happened to be close by looking for a tow truck, not sure what to do with the damn car. I let the guy talk me into selling it to him, a decision I sort of regret to this day. This car could have brought out the hot rod guy in me, but it's probably fortunate that it didn't.
1973 Volkswagen Beetle-true punk rock car. It was mostly orange when I got it with this really poorly done black wedge like thing that started just in front of the back wheels and went up to just beneath the back window. It was only a short time before a couple of friends and I attacked it with Sharpies and wrote a lot of nonsense and punk band names all over it. There was broken glass somewhere in the back that a friend was nice enough to not clean up even as I explained that I didn't give a shit since they were the ones who had to sit in it. That car saw some good times and some high drama. It also saw an over done wannabe monster truck roll over the back end of it as I didn't clear the intersection on Memorial Drive in time, a combination of my car stalling and the guy in the truck not meaning to be quite such a dick.
1979 Mercury Grand Marquis- which had been my grandmother's car. This car was the worst possible shade of green and was christened the big pickle though any pickle this shade of green would be best avoided. This car was plush, velour seat covers over basically pillow top seats. Everything that could be electric in 1979 was. I never owned this car. The family pretty much got it as Grandma went into the home. After my brief stint with this car it went to my oldest brother's wife who likely drove the wheels off of it. I enjoyed my time with it and am happy not to have crashed in it. This is however the car I would drive up I-75/85 in, cruise control set to about 80, both feet out the window. I was an idiot, so please don't judge me based on those years. I didn't actually wreck this one, for what it's worth, but it did become unavailable to me, moving on to a more desersving family member.
MARTA-trains and buses for a good long while and a whole other chapter of my life. If not for the things I got into during this period I'd likely never have left Atlanta, but I eventually did in VW of some sort. It's pretty fucked up to sit here and consider that the long line of cars above only covered the years 1988 to 1993 as I entered the carless years. The move to Charlotte NC proved especially fun as their transit system left a bit to be desired. I actually worked within walking distance of everywhere I worked for the couple of years I was in Charlotte. I then moved to Rock Hill SC, destined to one day be a suburb of Charlotte and relied on the kindness of friends and then a boss when I worked construction for a short time. It was around this time, 1995, that Momma showed up with her car.
1988 Subaru DL-one of the most missed cars, Momma's graduation present shortly before we started to see more of each other. We drove the shit out of this car. Back and forth between Atlanta, Knoxville and back to Rock Hill as we visited family. It moved with us to Atlanta (Stockbridge) for an odd few months living with a friend before wising up and moving back to Charlotte with some other friends. Eventually this car moved with us to Knoxville and saw the end of its service as we bought a slightly newer car.
1990 Buick Skylark-grandparent style driving. I never did like this car. We drove it a lot and it was a nice size for all of us including the baby that would eventually become Big Brother. The less said about Buick in general the better. It wasn't a bad car, so I shouldn't really knock it, but . . .
1996 Honda Accord-our current car and my true favorite. It's got a lot of miles on it, but it runs great. I'd prefer an extra pair of cylinders in the engine, but I really can't complain. I really love this car anyway. We found it at Car Max and didn't really have a reasonable way of proving to them that we were a worthwhile credit risk other than that we had good credit. The car was so new to the lot that it wasn't online and didn't even have the paper in the window yet. While looking and thinking about the cars we were likely to have to settle on we saw our Honda. The salesperson didn't even know about it. I'd almost believe in destiny with the story of this car, but no.
1983 Toyota pickup-belonged to Momma's grandfather, given to us earlier this year. This truck has a pound of rust per square foot of bed space with very little rust on the body of the truck. I'm currently having battery problems and need a new throttle cable. This truck has over 200,000 miles on it. My U10's call it Rusty Wallace and end practice in the back acting goofy while their parents fold up their chairs and attempt to drag them away from the truck. This truck will likely sit in the driveway for years being used for errands and for me and the boys when we don't take Momma to work to have the car. I could love this truck if it let me. It needs at least a radio that works in addition to the real issues that I already mentioned.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)